


The Waitress and the Billionaire

by Bunnylover94



Series: The Glorious Heroics of the Justice League [2]
Category: Batman: The Animated Series, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnylover94/pseuds/Bunnylover94
Summary: This is not a simple meet-cute, rather terrifying to uncover your one-sided crush happens to be an nefarious villain.
Series: The Glorious Heroics of the Justice League [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386685
Kudos: 1





	The Waitress and the Billionaire

**Author's Note:**

> *As usual, I own nothing. All major and minor DC characters are properties owned by DC Entertainment.*  
> Happy reading!

The Waitress and the Billionaire

  
Large windows conveyed a brilliant, vibrant city life and enormous skyscrapers that held prestigious businesses and cheesy advertising billboards. The windows were adorned with lengthy, gold-trimmed ruby velvet curtains. There was a smooth, amber marble staircase above the windows and the marble floor which was covered with hundreds of people milling about in glamourous tuxedos and form-fitting gowns. 

  
A young waitress held out a silver plate full of fizzy, bubbling champagne near the amber marble staircase. She clenched her jaw as men and women drifted past her, as if she was nothing more than a ghost to them. She was not their servant. She was someone important, too. But they did not see that her way. She was nothing, a mere clog who churned out drinks in their precious parties and reacted predictably when required to. She loathed this job, but she needed the money.

  
It was not like she was Bruce Wayne, for universe’s sake, she was a normal post-college grad loaded with debts. She wished her financial woes vanished with a bat of her eyelashes. She sighed internally, and she smoothed out any discouraging emotions and stress from her features. The emotional war dove far beneath her skin and stitched itself to her bones. 

  
“Oh, Mr. Luthor,” cooed a beautiful blonde with lush red lips, hazel eyes and giant boobs to match. 

  
The man in question who was standing across the room from her. Not that she noticed or counted how many times Mr. Luthor appeared to glide from conversation to the next with ease; it sent both chills of excitement and terror at his nearing approach. 

  
Her grip tightened on the tray and a rattle coursed through the slim wine stems. A few nearby patrons looked around, but then resumed their conversations.   
She huffed out a sigh of relief. 

  
The waitress mentally chided herself for nearly acting so irrational in public and on the job. She fought the urge to melt into the floor. Especially over a childish one-sided infatuation with a billionaire man who wouldn’t glance at her for a moment longer than requesting a refill or asking for a beverage recommendation. Or perhaps to acquire her catering company’s service for his next gala. 

  
She allowed her right eye to gaze at the approaching Mr. Luthor. He smirked as he approached the excited and beautiful woman.

  
The woman leaned into him and her eyes locked onto his diamond encrusted cufflinks. Pretty stupid move, but a glimmer of amusement graced his eyes. So, billionaires loved this kind of attention? Must be a common thing, when one owned most of the city, right? 

  
Maybe his ego and manhood enjoyed women twittering about like flighty birds pecking him for the occasional bite of bird seed. What the hell did she know?

  
A crash echoed through the elongated window. A cyborg with cropped blonde, half-peeled face treaded across thick shards of window glass. Screams and protesting shouts pierced the room. A couple thuds resounded against the marble floor. His one green eye scanned the room, while his dark eye halted on her. He beelined for her. She backpedaled and pressed herself into an edge of a curtain.

  
Was it too late to take back that earlier wish of hers? She really did not want to fling her body out a window; particularly this one. 

  
He flung the tray of liquid, and the thin glass shattered across the marble floor. He then grabbed her arm and pulled her into him. He then jumped up to the top of the staircase. A quick, surprised breath intake died on her lips as well as her attempt to scream. Her upper teeth clamped into her bottom lip.

  
A trickle of liquid traveled down her chin. 

  
Where was Superman? 

  
“Alright! If everyone remains calm and no will be hurt least of all this little waitress,” proclaimed Metallo.

  
Her vision twisted as repetitive black circles graced her. Her spine unraveled like a thread near a blustery wind. Her body flopped against the unnerving Metallo. 

  
***

  
Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned as she rose from the marble floor. She arched her back. 

  
“Oh, please. Metallo hardly hurt her. The waitress passed out, as soon as he collected her,” stated a crisp, emotionless voice. 

  
What? Her groggy recall lagged before sprinting through the previous moments that proceeded to her pressing the snooze button in her subconscious. 

  
“I’m serious, Luthor,” groused a patience-waning man.

  
“As if I care, Superman,” tossed back Mr. Luthor.

  
What were they…What was happening?

  
She sneezed.

  
Both individuals stiffened and then craned their necks to peer at the source of the sneeze. The caped one slid across the air and halted in front of her.

  
“Are you okay, miss?” asked the Boy Scout in a touching overconcerned tone.

  
_No. She had lost all connection to her consciousness and now she had to grapple with the terrible reality of the actual Lex Luthor; who was not living up to that wholesome image he projected on television. Damn it._

  
“I’ll be fine,” she replied in an unsteady tone.

  
Although, she doubted she was ever going to recover from this eye-opening moment, but then she always did want to solidify her childish dream of filling her life with books and cats. So whoopie, here was her grand chance! 

  
The glorified golden hero of Metropolis’ eyebrows knit together, and his mouth opened as if to continue questioning her current state. 

  
A deep rumbling chuckle sent a chilling sensation slithering down her spine. 

  
“What’s so funny, Luthor?” demanded Superman. 

  
“Oh, nothing, you’d understand,” Lex patronized.

  
He placed his hands behind his back and sauntered to the fragmented window beside them. 

  
Superman placed his left arm in front of her and she placed her hands on him. He lifted her up and then placed her upright on the soles of her feet. He craned his neck around and then lifted off the ground. His eyes narrowed into the skyscrapers beyond.

  
“I have to go,” he declared before he zipped off into the night sky.

  
“Magnificent, isn’t he?” taunted Lex. 

  
“No,” she blurted out.

  
Lex’s spine straightened. 

  
He was humble, kind and projected a warmth that rivaled the Sun. That was what endeared him to countless individuals, not the strength, heat vision, ice breath, flight, or speed. 

  
“But he is something else,” she spoke in an awed tone. 

  
“He’s an alien,” he stated in a disgusted tone, like he had dog poop wedged underneath the sole of his shoes. 

  
Lex Luthor hated aliens, go figure. The most brilliant man on Earth loathed life beyond the realm of Earth’s atmosphere. 

"But enough, about that," he said with a biting edge.

"What are you-" she started. 

  
“Perhaps there is something I can provide you. To ensure this incident is never spoken of again. I doubt you want to ever relive this moment. After all I do have a profitable company,” he spoke with a warm, honey tone. 

  
She radiated with righteous indignation. How dare he! She knew she would hate herself, when she glared at her rumbling stomach for the next two days, but no her conscience nagged at her to ignore the money and go home. 

  
“You’re wrong,” she said in a firm tone.

  
He blinked his iron gray eyes at her. A slow, salacious smirk curled up his cheeks. He readjusted his diamond cuffs in her line of sight. She reciprocated with a heated glare and crossed her arms over her chest. An illuminous delight gleamed from his eyes. As if she were a business proposition or a small country to purchase for his own personal enjoyment.

  
“My dear, I’m never wrong,” he proclaimed with a ferocious edge.

  
“I don’t want your money,” she stated with a hard-clipped tone.

  
A flash of surprise graced his features briefly and then morphed into a serene calm. One reserves for solo vacations or spa days. She sensed he was not used to people declining monetary incentives or bribes, especially from him. 

  
Well, it served him right for bribing her in the first place. Who was she going to tell? Honestly, all her friends labored in their graduate programs, serving their country or toiled in their minimum wage jobs until the better ones opened; much like herself. And she doubted her family would believe her. They collectively adored people like Mr. Luthor and despised the likes of Bruce Wayne. The press would not believe her. Not any credible one, only the gossip rags.

  
She then turned from him and walked toward the giant staircase. 

  
“You never said your name,” he groused. 

  
She paused and turned for a mere moment and met his gray eyes. That gaze hardened and traced her body, soaking in every minor detail. Memorized her entire body as if to locate her at a future time. 

  
“You didn’t ask,” she deadpanned. 

  
His steel gaze refocused onto hers. She shrugged and a corner of lip lifted in an amused tilt. She pivoted and then rushed down the staircase. She battled down the hunger that vibrated throughout her organs. There was a bed she longed to plop her body on top of. 

  
*** 

  
Alexander Joseph Luthor was not one to be stunned into silence or rejected at the proposals of money. That unnamed waitress was a unique woman. One who did not possess bothersome powers or have connections to the press. Or both. Like some irritating journalists he suspected had vivid double lives.

  
She was not someone who blindly groveled at the altar of Superman but respected him regardless.

  
She feared Metallo and fainted from his near-proximity, and yet stood her ground against him: Lex Luthor. 

  
He pulled his personal LexCorp phone from his inner breast white silk pocket and tapped out a rapid sequence of numbers. He pressed the device against his right ear. 

  
A dark smirk trailed up his cheek. 

  
“It appears we have a loose end to cut,” he stated in an amused tone. 

  
To Be Continued


End file.
